Once Upon A Time
by ShadowOfApate
Summary: What if Joxer had reacted to his first kill a whole lot worse.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Once Upon A Time Part: 1/? Rating: PG-13 Beta Read: Scribe Timeline: Starts at The Convert and goes from there. Note: This is alt, it may not look like it yet, but it is. In my opinion TPTB started a storyline with Joxer and then just ignored it. grrr

Summary: Two months after Joxer loses his blood innocence his friends get in trouble, he needs to put his own troubles behind him, at least temporarily, if he's going to save them.

And your heart shall lead where your courage fails. Through the shadows, and into the darkness, where light once shined, and never will again.

'Once upon a time there was a warrior. He was a blood innocent who loved life and peace. He would roam the country in gaiety, laughing and singing. His deeds, though not glamorous, were still worthy of pride.'

The scene before him sent his heart into anger. A village that had known nothing but peace was in scattered fear. Dozens of warriors and horses rampaged through it in a manner he would expect from Callisto or Draco. They were swinging at the people. Man, woman, child, it didn't seem to matter.

His friends were already charging into the midst of it, Xena fighting anything that even resembled a threat. The shining metal of her impeccably made-sword sliced through the air with deadly precision, leaving body after body littering the once-peaceful village.

Gabrielle, draped in the fine Indian cloth that he still wasn't used to, was directing the villagers away from the fighting. She had already started for a family near one of the huts, screaming at them to move. She wasn't paying attention; she wasn't even looking at the hut. He was. He saw the figure fill the doorway; he saw the sword.

" Gabby...look out..."

He was already moving, his legs making him run faster than he thought possible. He was there; he was in front of her. He couldn't fight him - he wouldn't stand a chance. He was a useless klutz that they only kept around for laughs, but he could take the blow. He could give his life for Gabrielle's.

'Aphrodite, what ever happens let Gabrielle survive. I don't matter, but she does. The world needs her, Xena needs her...'

He took a shuddering breath as the larger man surged forward. The horrible stench of blood, sweat, and death suffocated him. A deep pounding filled his ears, drowning out everything around him. The world seemed to slow as the warrior halted less than an inch from him. A large clammy hand clamped down on his shoulder, forcing him to stare into his eyes.

The impossibly black pools widened with shock, then stared down at something. A single line of red trickled from the corner of the warrior's mouth. He followed the warrior's gaze down to his chest where his hunting knife was buried. He tightened his hold on the handle and slowly pulled it out, unable to take his eyes off the warlord as he collapsed, staring into the eerily bright sky, lifeless.

He lifted his hand until the blade was at eye-level. The once dark gray metal was now coated dark maroon that was almost black under the sun's dying rays. A single drop of thick liquid traced the edge of the blade to the bone handle and made its way down the beige material until it landed on his thumb.

" Joxer..." Soft skin touched his bare arm as the angel whispered his name on the spring wind.

Fascination. He carefully poked the drop of red on his thumb with his finger. Fantasy. It burst, spraying across his skin. Curiosity. He rubbed his finger over it, trying to get the color off his thumb. Denial. It smeared, it stained, it stayed where it was.

"Joxer..." The skin massaged his arm as the angel moved in front of him. Gods, she was beautiful. Short, pixie hair shifting, flying in the fading wind. " Joxer...are you hurt?"

He gazed at the knife, now lowered in front of him, as though it were a god. A red drop gathered at the tip. The thundering in his ears grew louder and faster, like a crazy band of drums, until it exploded into silence. A soft ping broke through his world as the red drop fell from the tip, landing on the toe of the warlord's boot.

'Blood.' His mind whispered. 'Blood, you drew. Blood, you caused. You. The mighty Joxer.'

" Joxer, you're scaring me..." The angel spoke.

" I killed him."

Two Months Later 

The sheen of sweat covered his body under her gaze. His muscles protested the weight on his shoulders, one twenty-pound bag of food on each shoulder. He observed the lightly lifted eyebrow that silently questioned whether he would be able to stand or not. In an equally silent answer he shakingly forced his body into standing position. With a satisfied nod he steadily made his way towards the storage hut.

She easily kept up with him, her hands thoughtfully folded behind her back. He was aware of her critically eyeing him, taking in his change of attire. Knee-high dark brown moccasins, soft leather pants and soft leather jacket of the same shade, and a deer skin long-sleeved shirt. No weapons.

He entered the dim hut and meticulously dropped first one bag then the other, onto the pile in the left hand corner. Turning, he paused as the Amazon stepped into the doorway, blocking his only way out.

"The others can finish this. Right now, you need to rest." She said. Staring at him, she could see the changes in him, and not just in his clothes. His eyes were still the same, but now they no longer held the same innocence. His body was leaner, sharper.

"But the storm..."

"We have time - according to Cyane it won't hit us until early morning."

Ephiny was concerned about the young man. She'd run into him in the nearby town, and he'd been nothing but a numb shell of the man she'd come to know. She'd immediately taken him under her care. When they arrived back in the Amazon village, there had been a number of women who were averse to a man being brought there, honorary tribe member or not.

But there were still quite a few that remembered him from the last time he'd been there, and saw what condition he was in. In the end they'd agreed to let him stay, and over the last two months even the Amazons who'd been opposed to him had become more accepting.

He'd proven himself to be useful, polite but not insulting. He'd quickly become a part of their tribe, an addition that had become something of pride. He'd also become a close companion to Ephiny. They would spend an hour every night just talking. Despite his original impression of chauvinism and slowness, she found he was actually intelligent.

"Cyane tells me you've become good with a staff."

"I still need a lot of work..." He hedged.

"She also tells me that you refuse to use your sword."

"Swords kill." Joxer whispered.

Ephiny felt a slight chill, and gently shifted the conversation. " Otrere wants to talk to you."

Joxer stared at her blankly. The Amazon shamaness hadn't spoken to him at all in the last months. What could possibly make that change now?

He entered the dark hut, trying to see through the shadows. Behind him, heavy furs covered the doorway, blocking out both the cold and the light. He winced as a fire suddenly burst to life. Sitting amongst a pile of pelts was a gray-haired older woman. Her crystal eyes were burning into his until it felt like she was seeing into his very soul.

"So, you're the young man that has the queen so protective?" The shamaness cackled with laughter at the sheepish look that crossed Joxer's face. "Come closer and sit."

He carefully picked his way around the fire and sat next to her. "Ephiny said you wanted to talk to me?"

"That's right. I've had my eye on you." She sighed softly, suddenly looking her age. "Are you still having nightmares?"

"Some."

"They've changed recently..."

"Yes." Joxer stared at his hands, trying to keep control of his emotions.

"Tell me."

"I'm running down a path, and my lungs are burning - I can't get enough air. It's so cold and the snow is falling so hard I can't see more than a few feet at a time. But I keep going. I try to push myself faster. I have to. The path curves out onto a hill and I see two people standing there, an older man and a young girl. I ignore them. My eyes are frozen on the camp below. There are two crucifixions. I can see that they're both women - one with short blonde hair, and the other with black hair. The man rests his hand on my shoulder and says he's sorry that there's nothing they could do. That's when I realize..."

He squeezed his eyes closed, desperate to shut the images out. "I realize that it's Xena and Gabby..." He whispered.

"You know what you must do." The shamaness gently lifted his chin and stared into his eyes. "There is still time, but you must go, now."

"It's really going to happen, isn't it?"

"Yes, and if you want to save them, you must leave immediately."

Joxer turned away. He was a failure, a coward. He killed a man - no, a murderer - and every night he could still see his blood staining his hands. Every night he could still hear the voice of his son, wanting to avenge his father's death.

Instead of letting his friends know just how badly he was really doing, he'd run. He'd run from them, and now they were in trouble. Now he had to go to them. He didn't matter; only they did. 


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Once Upon A Time Part: 2/? Rating: PG-13 Beta Read: Scribe Timeline: Starts at The Convert and proceeds into the next season. Note: It is alt, even if it doesn't look like it yet, it will.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Any and all characters belong to TPTB

'Once upon a time there was a warrior. He was haunted at night in his dreams by the man who'd taken his innocence. Only now, he was being haunted by other ghosts - the ghosts of his friends.'

He sat on the log, taking in the beauty of the countryside under the setting sun. It was so peaceful there. No wars, or killing. Here, he could react to the natural course of nature. Here, the only time he fought was in the practice sessions that Ephiny had ordered him to start taking.

"I've ordered Cyane to prepare Morpheus for you at daybreak."

"You don't have to do that." He scooted over so she could sit down, "You've already done too much for me."

Ephiny lightly glared over at him as she settled next to him. "What makes you think I'm doing this for you? Xena and Gabrielle are a part of this tribe too."

"I'll bring him back as soon as I can," he answered. The queen was almost as stubborn as Gabrielle, but far more tolerant. He would miss that while he was gone.

Ephiny eyed him then reached around her neck and removed her choker. "I want you to have this."

"I can't acc..."

"You dare to insult me?" She asked. She softened her fierce gaze and carefully fastened it around his neck. "You're a good man Joxer, and one day you will find the peace you're searching for."

"I . . . Thank you."

"You'll always have a place here." Ephiny studied the man next to her. She was going to miss him, but right now there were two women out there who needed him. "Come on, the party is going to be starting soon."

"Ephiny..." He swallowed nervously as his earlier doubts returned. "What if I can't save them? What if . ..?"

"You will." Ephiny defiantly glared at him. "I know you will."

Two Weeks Later 

He dug his heels into the horse beneath him, pushing the large gray horse faster. Morpheus sped up with still no sign of exhaustion. For the last two weeks it had been a constant game of tag. It seemed like he was always just behind his friends. He'd missed their ship by less than an hour, missed them docking by a day. From then on he'd simply raced towards the camp he knew was there.

Morpheus slowed to a quiet trot and nodded his head at the approaching hill. He tightened his leather-gloved hand around the thick Amazon staff as he recognized it from his dream. He settled back into the saddle as they took the final steps over the rise. Standing there, staring down at the camp was a middle-aged man with waist long hair and a beard. A young, teenage girl stood beside him. The man looked up at him, clearly recognizing him.

Joxer ignored the man, and glanced down at the camp. There were sounds of soldiers behind the gate, and sentries were patrolling the grounds. Two crosses stood in the ground, with two bodies nailed to them. Women. He closed his eyes against the scene he already knew so well from his dreams.

"There's nothing we could do."

His eyes snapped open with the echo of Eli's voice. He'd heard that same sentence every night for the last three weeks. He wanted to yell at him, to tell him that there was something, but it was his responsibility, not theirs.

'Trust your heart, and it will lead you down the right path.' It was the last thing Otrere had said to him.

His heart . . . It was filled with rage, with blame, and undying loyalty.

He slammed his heels violently into Morpheus' sides and galloped on down the path, his eyes silently mapping the camp. There was a wagon sitting unprotected, filled with cloth. A path led from the camp and up the embankment to . . . a stone building of some sort.

Morpheus stopped next to the building, snorting his approval ever so softly. Joxer slid to the ground and searched for any sign of life, the way Cyane had taught him. In the snow he could see fading tracks of a deer, but nothing human. He carefully approached the door and glanced inside. There were several slabs of marble and a few bags of food, but nothing else. Perfect.

"What do you think you're doing? And where did you get this?"

Joxer stared blankly at the young girl as she grabbed the leather choker that Ephiny had given him. Her face was contorted in anger and irritation. He felt her grip tighten on the necklace, and he instinctively clasped her wrist.

"It was a gift." He pressed his thumb into the pressure point of her wrist until she let go and stepped back. "Now, either help me get them down, or back off."

Amarice narrowed her eyes, "No Amazon would give that to a man. You stole it . . ."

Joxer stiffened. He was a lot of things, but he was not a thief, and he would never show so little respect to Ephiny - not after everything she had done for him. His jaw twitched as he brushed past the young Amazon. Today, he would let her ignorance pass. Today, the only thing that mattered was his friends.

"Joxer..." Eli's soft voice made him pause. He couldn't help it; there was something about this man that made you want to listen. "I understand what you're feeling, but getting yourself killed . . ."

"I'm taking their bodies back to Greece. They deserve to be buried with their families." He gripped Morpheus' saddle and stared at the light sword that Ephiny had packed despite his protests. He had no intentions of using it. Not now, not ever again.

"Is it worth you getting killed?"

Joxer gave Eli a sideways glance and started down the path, Morpheus' reins in his hand. "Yes."

Eli smiled sadly. He could see what Xena had been talking about when she spoke of the wannabe warrior - the spirit of a puppy coupled with the heart of a lion.

"He's crazy! The minute he tries to take their bodies down, they'll be all over him."

"Probably."

Eli started down the hill, and Amarice gaped, "They're crazy . . ." She then glanced from the two men to the two women that she'd been traveling with for the last month, and sighed. "This is crazy . . ."

He cradled her body close to his chest, feeling the icy cold through his deerskin shirt. A single tear ran down his left cheek and splashed onto her forehead. He gently caressed her cheek and brushed back the wild blonde hair.

"It's time to wake up now . . ," his voice cracked painfully. ". . . but you're not going to, are you? Not this time." He kissed her forehead, imagining that the frigid skin was once again soft and warm.

"Joxer, we've got to go. Now."

He tenderly lifted the body, laying her next to Xena on Morpheus' back. In front of him Amarice went into a battle stance facing the two soldiers that were quickly approaching. He picked up his staff and placed its end into the ground like a walking stick. There had been enough fighting.

"Amarice, take Eli up to the path. I'll be there in a minute." The young Amazon glared at him with no move to obey him. "Amarice . . ."

"Fine," she snapped, starting for the path with Eli.

He glanced over at the soldiers. They were teenagers, if barely that. They were shaking slightly, in fear he imagined - fear either of him, or at the idea of failure. They came to a stop right in front of him with their swords drawn. Neither of them looked like they wanted to fight him.

Probably blood innocents, too. He sighed tiredly and glanced back at the saddle. The sword was just barely in view under the fur blanket. Dismissing that idea before he could even think of it, he turned his attention back to the two men.

". . . bodies back."

"They're my family. I only want to take them home to be buried," he said quietly.

"Our orders . . ."

Joxer studied the man who was speaking. "Sometimes the very men that give your orders are the very men that shouldn't be in power. Sometimes even the kindest of leaders let their own fears and prejudice get in the way of their job."

"Our orders . . ."

"I know," he whispered, "but they're all I have. Caesar's already robbed me of the only family I've ever known - please don't let him take their deaths from me, too." He clenched his fist around his staff, "I . . . don't want a fight. Not because I can't, but because I've seen enough blood in my life . . . I'm asking you as one human being to another, to just let me pass."

He turned away from them, baring his back to their swords, and took Morpheus' reins. Keeping his eyes on Eli, who was standing near the building, he slowly began the walk to him. The older man smiled at him and nodded. Maybe it was his approval or maybe it was simply to let him know that it had worked. Whatever reason, it settled the pounding of his heart.

"Isn't there anything you can do?"

"No. My powers don't work that way."

Joxer clenched his jaw as he stared down at the two bodies of his friends. Unable to take it anymore he walked out of the building, his feet taking him to the edge of the hill that looked out over the camp. The soldiers were now screaming and running around in a panic, probably trying to figure out what happened to Xena and Gabrielle.

He'd failed them. He'd failed Ephiny. He'd failed Otrere. He'd failed Eli. He'd failed Greece. And now . .. . now he'd go back to the village and tell his friend that they were dead - dead because instead of leaving immediately, he'd waited. He'd waited, and he'd attended a party. He was a failure.

"If you didn't steal it, then who gave it to you?" demanded Amarice.

"A friend." He stared coldly down at the camp, and at the wagon that was still sitting there. Old, dry cloth, it would probably burn as well as wood, if not better.

"What friend?"

Joxer ignored her. 'Fire. Cloth . . . Cloth. Fire . .. .' He glanced over at the gates. All of the soldiers were out of sight. It would only take a moment. Just one spark and a quick push.

"I said, what friend?"

Joxer brushed past her and started back for the shed.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!"

He twirled his staff once as Amarice struggled to keep up with him. He was not in the mood for her. Couldn't she see that he was grieving, and that there were more important things in life besides necklaces? He entered the shed searching for Eli and paused . . .

"Gabby . . ," he whispered.

The pixie-haired angel stared at him with . . . what? Joy? Acceptance? Life? He didn't care if it was anger; she was sitting there, alive! He stepped up to the marble slabs, looking back and forth from Gabrielle to Xena and back again before wrapping his arms around his love.

"Thank the gods . . ."


End file.
